


mismatch

by alohavera (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alohavera
Summary: Hinata catches up to Kageyama. Kageyama also catches up to Hinata, but a fraction too late.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 29
Kudos: 308





	mismatch

**Author's Note:**

> Manga spoilers up to chapter 370 :)
> 
> The summary was inspired by the fic [gay and innocent and heartless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22248652) by Xanisis.

As soon as Hinata returns from Brazil, Kageyama knows about it.

He knows, even though he doesn't go to pick Hinata up from the airport. He knows, even though Hinata doesn't ask Yamaguchi to give him some gaudy souvenir like a t-shirt peppered with sparkly, pink sequins across the front.

He knows, even though they haven't been in contact since Hinata left two years ago.

Because even though he and Hinata have fallen out of touch, Kageyama is still tethered to his old volleyball team, no matter how tenuous the string, the connection. He has a phone after all, and there is this or that group chat or another, and word gets around quickly. Especially when it comes to that guy. Nothing Hinata has ever done is inconspicuous or under the radar. He is a decoy, the core of his character molded to the position, as if it were made for him, as if he were made for the position. The best decoy, nothing he does escapes notice.

Hinata's phone number sits in Kageyama's phone, untouched. His phone is heavy, heavy with the knowledge that the last time they messaged was when they were third-years in high school, and they had conversed (bickered) over who would be responsible for bringing popsicles to their team's end-of-year celebration. The memory is bittersweet. (Neither of them brought popsicles in the end; both had forgot. Luckily, Yamaguchi had been there to do damage control, as he often did.)

Kageyama has opened up Hinata's contact countless times in the past two years, skimming over the words at the bottom of their message history: "don't 4get the popsicles bakageyama! the 1st years will cry if u do" and "you don't forget, dumbass. it's not my job to bring them," followed by the exchange of countless emojis, the enraged and crying ones the most heavily used. He doesn't scroll up much further past this. Everything is still there. He has never purged a single message, both to or from Hinata. It's like the history of their relationship preserved in the palm of his hand (though he knows it was also so much more than that).

But if he did allow himself to scroll up, to read further into their past, what would that prove? That he was trying to fill some emptiness, not physical like the pangs of hunger, but some emotional vacancy? That he missed Hinata? The longer they went without communicating, the more impossible it felt to restart. So in the end, every time he clicked on Hinata's contact, his eyes would linger on the final words Hinata had sent to him, at the very end of their last year of high school. Before things had fallen apart. "see you soon, kageyama!"

Reading them now, those words feel like a lie. 

(Hinata never lied though.)

*

When Hinata makes the V-league, a ripple goes through the organization. There are lots of players from their generation in the first division, after all. Many of them played against Hinata in high school, many of them have wondered when he would make his reappearance -- Kageyama included, he supposes.

Apparently, Hinata is playing for the MSBY Black Jackals now. Kageyama checks the team's roster in the evening, after he finds out during practice. Hinata's name is there, his picture. His appearance is altered, stronger, possessing an unfamiliar maturity. But his eyes are the same: bright, sharp, as if daring the world to throw one impossibility at him after another. He's already defied gravity, scraping his way up to the top of Japan's premier volleyball association, despite being a good half foot shorter than the average player. Kageyama eyes Hinata's stats on the team roster. Five foot seven. The guy's still shorter than Hoshiumi.

Kageyama's about to close out of the webpage when his eye catches on something else. Someone else's picture. Miya Atsumu's. If Hinata becomes a regular for the Jackals, Miya will be his setter. The knowledge burns something fierce into Kageyama's conscience. Because Miya is something of a rival to Kageyama. One he has managed to beat out so far: a spot on the top team in the V-league, a spot on the national team, the nation's best setter. But now… now Miya will have Hinata, and Kageyama doesn't like this turn of events one bit.

*

The off-season ends and the play schedule comes out and Kageyama gets tunnel vision, scanning his team's schedule for the letters 'MSBY.' He doesn't have to look far. November 17th, a match at the Sendai Gymnasium in Miyagi. It really couldn't be more perfect than that.

His phone sits heavily in his pants pocket, having become deadweight ever since Hinata's entrance to the V-league. Sometimes, he imagines that Hinata is waiting for him, some fragment of third-year, second-year, first-year Hinata sitting in his pocket, holding his breath, waiting for the silence to break. Kageyama's fingers itch towards his pocket every time he gets this feeling, wondering, how do I mend this connection? This thread which has frayed and thinned over years of neglect. How do I do the impossible?

He doesn't know. He isn't Hinata after all.

*

A few nights before his first match against Hinata since middle school, Kageyama gives in to the itch. He scratches it. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finds Hinata's contact, and scrolls up, all the way up until the screen refuses to move anymore. The words at the top burn into his retinas: "hey its hinata!" For a moment, the three words float, detaching themselves from the rest of the display. "hey its hinata!" Too easy to imagine that those three words are his present, that Hinata has just sent them to Kageyama, that they are first-years, second-years, third-years again and the thread between them is strong and vibrant and Hinata is tugging on one end and Kageyama on the other and neither will let go since they're both stubborn bastards, but would Kageyama have it any other way? No, he decides, he wouldn't. He doesn't want it any other way, because Hinata is his most precious friend, rival, partner -- someone so important to him, so integral to his development, both as a person and as a player, that he really can't put a label on the guy.

Kageyama's fingers hover over the message box, twitching to type a response. He taps the blank space where his words will go, and the simple gesture grounds him back in the present. The illusion vanishes. The thread, no longer taut with vibrant tension between them, hangs loosely in Kageyama's fingers. Would he have things any other way? No, Kageyama thinks fiercely, even as the past shatters around him, giving way to the present where things are, in fact, another way. He taps the bubbles under the inaugural message ("hey its hinata!"), trying to change them, to rewrite history. They are immutable, unyielding under his fingertips. He flicks the screen, scrolling down, looking for a place where he can get a word in edgewise. And this thread, the unifying thread of his high school years, his relationship with Hinata unravels before him. The messages anchor him in time, the memories surface around them, and Kageyama feels like he's drowning.

*

At the very end of the scroll, the cursor blinks patiently, evenly, waiting for Kageyama's move. It mocks him. "So you want to rewrite history?" it mocks him.

Kageyama frowns, feels the frown digging at the corners of his mouth. He locks his phone, darkness swallowing the cursor, silencing it. But he doesn't feel better. His phone only feels heavier, his cowardice pressing in on him, more cloying than ever.

*

The truth is that, between him and Hinata, Kageyama is the bigger coward.

Because while Hinata sometimes gets stomach issues before games, or gets intimidated by tall guys and flustered around cute girls, and while it's true that none of these things faze Kageyama, when it comes to dealing with each other and how they feel about each other --

Hinata has undoubtedly always been the braver one.

*

Kageyama has been in love with Hinata Shouyou for a number of years now. And Kageyama has also known that Hinata Shouyou had been in love with him, probably throughout high school.

The difference is that Hinata definitely did not know that Kageyama Tobio had been in love with him, was still in love with him for crying out loud, because Kageyama himself did not know, did not recognize this fact until Hinata left for Brazil, which left Kageyama feeling like a vacuum had just sucked out his soul.

In high school, if someone had asked Kageyama about love, Kageyama would have laughed, scoffed and said, "Love? I only love volleyball." And he could only imagine -- Hinata's sweet, expressive face, hesitant and answering more conservatively, "Well it's true that I love volleyball, but I love people too." And there would be some secret hidden behind those words, Hinata already recognizing the extent of his feelings for his teammate, while Kageyama stubbornly clung to the dark -- miles ahead of Hinata in his athletic development, but six months younger emotionally.

Perhaps six months was a conservative estimate. (Definitely.)

*

When they meet again for the first time in over two years, it's on November 17th -- the day of their first match against each other in over five years. Of course, they meet in front of the bathroom (really, where else would Hinata be at the start of a match?) and it's immediately obvious to Kageyama that it's not just his face that's changed. Hinata's whole physique is different, both visually and in the aura he gives off. Solid confidence, there isn't an inch for fear or self-doubt to press in anywhere. Hinata is invincible (even without him, Kageyama notes with a pang -- and this is the first sign to him that something is wrong).

The second sign comes swiftly after, when Miya Atsumu, the official setter for the MSBY Black Jackals, sidles up to Hinata and slings an arm around him.

The gesture of familiarity makes Kageyama's stomach boil and he struggles to maintain nonchalance. Hinata doesn't seem bothered by the contact, almost seems to anticipate it. There's a bad taste in Kageyama's mouth, even as other players come to join their menagerie. His eyes linger on his former teammate and his rival setter. How close are they standing together, he wonders. How many inches separate them, and what do those inches mean? What significance does the space between them hold? Kageyama shakes his head, that he must be imagining things because it almost feels like Miya is holding back, so close to standing too close to Hinata. But that can't be true, can it? And then Hinata looks at his new setter and smiles in this way that's painfully familiar to Kageyama. A smile full of trust, admiration, camaraderie -- blinding sunshine. Kageyama knows what it feels like to be on the end of that smile. He takes one look at Miya's face and realizes, god damn it, he's done it.

Kageyama Tobio has finally lost to Miya Atsumu, when it really, truly matters.

*

In the afternoon, once the game is finished, the two opposing teams join each other for a recovery meal at a nearby izakaya. It's one of the bigger ones, large enough to accommodate both teams, plus several members of the audience -- some of Kageyama and Hinata's old teammates, some alumni from Fukurodani and Inarizaki as well.

Kageyama sits across from Hinata at the table, Miya sits at Hinata's left elbow, and there's teammates old and new scattered everywhere about them.

Hinata plays catch up with everyone, and drinks go around, as well as good food. The inside of the restaurant is warm compared to the chill outside of early winter. Hinata's got a red tint to his cheeks, and it's like he's been smiling nonstop since the Black Jackals won the game.

Kageyama trades niceties with him, says things like, "You got really good," and, "You can do jump serves now, even though they land out," which prompts Hinata to throw his napkin across the table. And then the redhead responds with his own small talk, like, "I saw your games during the Olympics. It was on like, everywhere! 'Cause you know, Brazil." The idea of Hinata watching him on television, watching some of his games has sometimes crossed his mind. Kageyama wonders if it's purely out of a professional interest, or if there's also maybe some personal motive behind it. (He doesn't dare to hope.)

"Your serves were like, bam, smack, whoosh!" Kageyama smiles at the familiar overuse of onomatopoeia. "The other team couldn't lay a finger on them!"

Kageyama nods modestly, fills the vacancy that opens up with an innocuous question like, "How was beach?" or something even more generic like, "How was Brazil?" 

What he really wants to ask is, "Why did you do _our_ quick with Miya-san?" and, "What is Miya-san to you?" and, "Do you still feel anything for me? Because if you do…"

But none of these escape where they are trapped under his bitten tongue. This is not the place to make a scene, to open a can of worms full of private thoughts. The talk stays harmless. Kageyama drinks a few more than he normally does during these post-game meals. (Normally he doesn't drink at all.)

He's feeling good but not intoxicated when something suddenly makes him feel not so good. He and Hinata are no longer talking, feeling obliged not to monopolize each other's conversation since that seems not only rude to each other, but rude to their companions too. Lots of people want to talk to Hinata, to compliment him on his debut performance. The atmosphere in the arena was electric during the game, and much of the good cheer from both winning and losing team alike had to do with Hinata's debut.

Hinata is saying something to Hoshiumi, who is sitting to Kageyama's right, when Miya Atsumu suddenly reaches out… and settles his arm around Hinata's shoulder.

It's the same gesture from before the match, but now there's no excuse. Nothing to prompt it, like Miya possibly protecting Hinata from a member of the opposing team or something. This time, his hand comes up to cup Hinata's shoulder and he pulls the redhead in a little closer to him. Hinata doesn't even falter, his words are seamless as he leans in a little to Miya's touch.

The gesture is unequivocal. Kageyama swallows, feels his throat dry up. Miya's eyes flicker to his for an instant as if he knows, the shadow of a challenge there in his half-lidded gaze. Kageyama feels sick suddenly, feels like he suddenly drank too much without keeping track of how many drinks he's had. The chatter around him turns into pressure, threatening to suffocate him on all sides.

He looks down at his plate, takes a breath. When he looks back up, Miya has turned his attention back to the Hinata-Hoshiumi conversation, his expression smooth, unfazed.

Kageyama excuses himself from the table as quietly as possible. The conversation doesn't falter, no one notices. He pays his share of the tab, leaves a generous tip, then slips out into the crisp, winter air.

His hands go into the pockets of his team jacket, and there's a scowl on his face, he can feel it. He can feel the wrinkle between his brows. He clenches his teeth, feeling Miya's arm heavy around his own shoulders, something itchy and awful, clawing at his chest.

This is really not how Kageyama has imagined this day, this reunion, to go.

He's several meters away from the izakaya when he hears the sound of a door sliding open hastily in the distance, followed by, "Kageyama!"

The addressee whirls around, and there's Hinata. Hinata Shouyou is running towards him with pink cheeks and uneven steps and just how many drinks has this guy had?

Hinata doesn't slow down when he nears Kageyama, so he ends up flying at the taller boy, and Kageyama has to clutch his biceps to steady him, to steady himself. The setter stares down in amazement as they still, and Hinata looks up at him, his eyes glazed a little but happy, shining.

There's smoke rising up in the space between them, their warm breaths puffing away at the cold, rising, dissipating. Kageyama feels every line in his body tense as he holds onto Hinata, as Hinata holds onto him, still clutching the front of his shirt for balance.

"Where are you going?" It's almost a whisper, muffled by the cold.

"Home." Kageyama's voice sounds far away to his own ears. Hinata's expression falls and Kageyama pushes down the hope which rises up in him. "I didn't sleep that well last night." It's not a lie.

Hinata straightens a little at this, lets go of his hold on Kageyama's jacket which has started to wrinkle a bit in his grasp. "Me neither," Hinata confides. "I was too excited for today's match."

"You were… amazing," Kageyama breathes out and Hinata's eyes widen. "Your quick," he speaks past the lump forming in his throat, "it's even faster now, isn't it?"

"Than ours was?" Hinata hesitates, then admits quietly, "Yeah, I think it is."

Kageyama nods, ignoring the intensifying discomfort in his chest. There are snowflakes, he realizes suddenly, falling around them. Just a gentle flurry, faint enough to have no bearing on the weather really, just enough to give the flavor of winter. A few flakes have fallen in Hinata's bright hair, striking a contrast against the strands for an ephemeral moment before melting away. There are one or two stuck on his long eyelashes. Kageyama restrains himself against the sudden urge to kiss them away.

He really doesn't want to ask, but Hinata has given him a second chance and he doesn't want to leave without knowing for sure. He swallows, says in a voice that comes out low and quiet and awkward, "You and Miya-san, are you…" Surprise registers for a second on Hinata's face before the redhead turns away. His face is angled away from Kageyama's, but still the taller boy can see the roundness of his rosy cheeks under the sweep of his bangs, his furrowed brow, the hard set line of his lips.

"Yeah," Hinata says quietly, answering the unasked question. Kageyama feels his heart throb painfully, the discomfort in his chest swelling into something unbearable.

He really doesn't know what to do. Hinata's standing there looking off to the side, refusing to meet his gaze, and Kageyama's half thankful (he has no idea what kind of expression he's wearing right now), half irrationally angry about this. Or perhaps, rationally? Because Hinata looks a mixture of unhappy and embarrassed and guilty, yet none of this is his fault. Because Miya Atsumu did in eight months what Kageyama Tobio couldn't bring himself to do in five years.

Fair is fair, Kageyama thinks, and he corrals his expression into something more peaceable, places a hand on Hinata's shoulder, prompting the shorter boy to glance up, surprised.

Kageyama feels his own gaze soften as it mingles with Hinata's and there's a small, sad smile on his lips. The snow is picking up now and the snowflakes are sticking more persistently to Hinata's hair.

"It's getting cold," Kageyama says quietly. "You should head back inside."

Hinata opens his mouth in such a way that Kageyama knows what will come next. A protest, as familiar to him as the feeling of a volleyball in his palm. He hasn't forgotten any part of Hinata Shouyou, like the boy has given him a piece of himself, a line on the destiny of his palm.

As if right on cue, there's a movement in the distance. Someone is coming out of the izakaya, making their way towards them. Kageyama squints through the snow, which is falling heavier by the second. The concern on Miya's face is visible, even from several meters away.

Kageyama nods at Miya, and Hinata glances over his shoulder, raises a hand at his boyfriend to signal that everything is okay. Miya stops, not advancing any further but neither retreating.

"I should go, Hinata." The words are painful, like rose thorns climbing out of Kageyama's throat.

"You should stay a bit longer," Hinata says, but he doesn't sound convinced by his own words and Kageyama gives a small shake of his head.

"We've got another game in December, right?" Hinata nods, almost like he's also checked the team schedule and memorized every date where they'll be matched up again. "I'll be seeing you then."

The apple of Hinata's throat bobs, his head bowed, and he looks like he wants to say something more, to stretch the moment, but what he ends up saying is a simple, "Yeah, I'll be seeing you."

Kageyama walks away from Miya and the izakaya while Hinata walks towards them, and when Kageyama looks back, he sees a fuzzy image through the worsening visibility: two people, their hands linked together between them. Miya slides the door to the restaurant open for Hinata and there's a moment where Hinata seems to hesitate, seems to look back, a tug on the old, splitting thread. Kageyama winds the thread around his fingers automatically, desperate to give an answer. But then both figures disappear back into the cozy comfort of the building, and the thread goes slack in Kageyama's hands once more.

*

In the evening before he goes to bed, Kageyama grabs his phone and pulls up his message history with Hinata Shouyou. This little digital universe, shared between two former teammates, is dead. Has been dead for more than two years. The last message exchanged in the space mocks him, the cursor blinks up at him, unsympathetic to his heartbreak. "Really," it seems to intimate, "what were you expecting?"

His fingers hover over the keypad. So many things went unsaid between them today, even the questions had been asked in vague fragments, the answers spoken as unfinished thoughts.

But maybe between him and Hinata, the thoughts never needed to be finished before being spoken aloud. They'd always had this way of understanding, of knowing, even when they weren't perfectly in sync. Even when Kageyama was ten steps ahead in volleyball, and ten steps behind in understanding their relationship.

They were even with each other now, level. Hinata had caught up to him on the national stage and Kageyama had grown up, just a fraction too late.

Under Hinata's last message, "see you soon kageyama!" the setter types a belated response, two years overdue:

"yeah, i'll be seeing you."

**Author's Note:**

> Urgh, sorry I couldn't give Kags and Hinata a happy ending in this one. (I’ve been reading too much AtsuHina recently haha.) I might write a continuation at some point, though I don't know how that would go. I like Atsumu a lot, I don't want him to get hurt either TT__TT
> 
> Thank you for reading, even if it was painful ;u;


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